


12 m/s

by YNK



Category: Sailor Moon - All Media Types, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YNK/pseuds/YNK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Music is worthless unless it can make a complete stranger break down and cry."  A sort of alternate ending/companion/cousin to "Goodbye happiness."</p>
            </blockquote>





	12 m/s

Motoki looked up from wiping a glass and nodded to a pair of customers as they left, watching the lamplight from outside catch the handle again as the door swung shut. He doubted he would need all of these glasses tonight, but he kept cleaning all the same. There were only a handful of customers scattered around the room, most of them gathered away from the bar and clustered near Haruka and her piano. She was playing something unfamiliar to Motoki, a lonely, wandering melody that led to chords that didn't resolve quite the way they should. But then again, Haruka was the musician, not him.

He glanced up to slide the newly dried glass onto the overhead rack and took up another, scanning the room while he worked the towel around the glass by feel alone. Years working in food service had made the scanning an unconscious habit. Usually it was the light that caught his eye - the glint off of a glass, a watch or a ring. On nights when the bar was packed and the din too much to distinguish one voice from the next, reading lips had become a necessary skill. But he'd also learned that how the light played on a customer's lips was only one part of the story - each shift and fidget of a person's face and body were sentences not spoken outloud but spoken all the same, to whoever was willing to listen.

A motion from the far end of the bar made Motoki turn, but the girl was taking a sip of her drink. Her bracelet caught the light again as she lowered the glass back onto the bar, her hand still steady even though she was already on her third drink. Her gaze had remained fixed on her glass throughout the evening, only the occasional glance up at the piano or on something beyond the bar entirely, firmly set within a silent state of pensive entropy. It made Motoki curious, but he'd been around enough to know it was sometimes better not to ask. 

As he slid another glass onto the overhead rack, light splashed upon them. He turned towards the door - and felt himself react to Minako's arrival: an upward pull to his whole body, his mouth, his back, his shoulders. He chuckled to himself as he felt even his feet move towards Minako. It happened every time. 

She took her time like she always did, letting herself be looked at, then leaned against the bar to take her turn in looking. Finally, she twisted around to greet Motoki - only to shift her eyes instantly over his shoulder. Motoki chuckled again. You could always count on Minako to spot a pretty face. 

Motoki watched as Minako's head tilted, eyebrows lowering slightly as she thought, probably wondering why the girl looked familiar. Motoki turned to the collection of CDs his sister kept underneath the bar and pulled out an album. Minako nodded in recognition when Motoki set the CD case on the bar but in the next moment, raised a teasing eyebrow at him. Motoki raised his hands defensively. _Not mine!_ Minako just laughed and handed back the CD, returning her gaze to Tiffany. But as Motoki watched, Minako's expression changed. 

When Minako looked up at him again, there was concern in her eyes. _2 hours_ , he gestured with one hand, understanding the question in her look. Minako nodded once and then the look was gone, her lips losing their tension to curve instead in curiosity. _What's she drinking?_ Motoki held up some vodka and pointed towards the espresso. Minako simply tapped soundlessly on the bar, which Motoki acknowledged with a small nod of his own. He’d begin Tiffany’s fourth drink after pouring Minako a glass of red wine. Though Minako looked as relaxed as could be, there was a minute but telling crease in her brow that made Motoki think of things like crimson and surrender. 

He finished making Tiffany’s drink just as Tiffany downed the last of her current one. Tiffany blinked in surprise when Motoki walked over and took her empty glass, replacing it with the new, full one. Then she paused, catching Motoki's slight nod towards the other end of the bar. He saw Tiffany sigh - the practiced half-curve of her lips did nothing to hide the heavy rise and fall of her shoulders - then turn towards her patron. 

Motoki ducked his head, understanding the shock evident on Tiffany's person: the unconscious parting of lips, the loss of breath, the widening of eyes, the tightened grip on the edge of the bar because of the sudden loss of balance. Minako simply had that effect on people. And she knew it too; Motoki could see it in that devious curl to her lips. She basked in Tiffany’s stare of a few more moments before finally walking to the far side of the bar towards Tiffany. She passed Motoki as he moved back to the middle of the bar to his cleaning, giving them room, but keeping them in sight.

At first, they talked in Japanese but even from where he stood, Motoki saw how Tiffany’s lips didn’t comfortably fit around the words. Minako seemed to notice as well. In mid-sentence, she tilted her head and switched seamlessly from Japanese to English. Tiffany’s face lit up instantly at the change and Motoki found himself mesmerized as her face transformed into a smile, erasing the tight lines that had dominated her face the entire evening and turning them into curves that made up her eyes, her mouth, marked the roundness of her cheeks. Motoki felt himself react - a step forward, a widening grin - and he couldn’t help but laugh, recognizing the exhilarating combination of helplessness and awe. _Two of a kind_ , he thought, stepping back to his spot and chuckling to himself.

The girls talked of their music, the stage, their fans. Motoki could see the performer in each of them, the similarities in carriage, their awareness of the light, and each other's eyes. There was a similar energy in the way they spoke, a shared passion for the stage. Maybe that was why Tiffany's eyes started to change as they continued talking. Motoki knew that look, had seen many a man and woman fix that look of remembering and longing upon Minako. With the four glasses of alcohol, it was no wonder Tiffany started to say, _You remind me_ , though she was able to stop from finishing the sentence. 

Minako sipped her drink calmly, as if she'd been expecting it. _Present or past?_ Minako asked. Her lips were pursed lightly, amused, curious, and something else Motoki couldn’t place. _Both_ , Tiffany answered, but it was with a pause and a slight shift away from Minako. _What about future?_ Minako asked while raising her glass to her lips again. There was an odd disconnect between the relaxed lightness of Minako's actions and the intensity of her eyes, narrowed in what looked like suspicion.

Tiffany stilled at the question but recovered with an, _Of course_. Minako followed up by asking for a name, her motions still light, easy, careful. At that moment, Motoki had to prepare a drink and didn't catch all of Tiffany's answer but the way Tiffany's mouth had started to move didn't look like the name was in Japanese. But it was what happened after Tiffany said the name that made Motoki pause. Tiffany's lips curled upward only stop halfway, settling into something less than an expression of happiness. Motoki caught something change in Minako's eyes as this happened, a recognition seen in the straightening of Minako's back, an instinctive lean toward Tiffany - a desire to comfort, to help.

But like Tiffany's smile, Minako stopped halfway, a sudden tension appearing in her jaw, as if she were biting down on something. Motoki wasn’t sure if her exhaled breath was in admonishment or sympathy because Minako's face changed an instant later when Tiffany looked back up at Minako with an attempt to correct her expression.

Minako mimicked Tiffany's facial display - a faint, almost pained upturn of lips - and it made Tiffany pause to see it reflected back at her. Minako reached out and touched the top of Tiffany's hand. Minako had turned at an angle where Motoki couldn’t read her lips but he could still read Tiffany, spotted the stiffness in her shoulders, how the muscles in her arm jerked and correctly predicted her pulling her hand back from Minako’s. _We've been together for years_ , Tiffany answered, her whole body on the defensive. _It has to be love._

 _Has to be?_ Minako asked with the barest movement from her lips. Maybe it was the softness of Minako's words or the stillness of Minako’s face that made Tiffany pause and finally, uncomfortably, look away.

Tiffany shrugged, her fingertip tracing the bottom edge of her glass. _Maybe it’s not the same as before but things change._ She shrugged again but seemed to shrink a bit with the movement. _I mean, it’s not like I expect a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates everyday. We’re past that._

Minako took a sip of her drink with a quirk of an eyebrow. _Past what, exactly? The chocolate or love?_

Motoki was surprised at the directness of Minako's question and trained his eyes first on her, trying to find some clue to the reasoning behind her words. But Minako was staring so intently at Tiffany that curiosity forced his gaze to shift over - only to have sympathy force his eyes to close. Never had Motoki witnessed such a look of haunted realization. He felt his own heart break a little: he understood where this was going now.

When he opened his eyes, Tiffany was already speaking again. She had shifted out of the light though, the shadows darkening her face and making it difficult for Motoki to read her lips. He was able to piece together a sentence - _Our anniversary was last week and neither of us remembered_ \- before her eyes turned down to the bar, taking her head with her. It was as if there were weights attached to her chin but she was trying her best to keep her head up, the struggle evident in the lines of her neck, the tension in her arms. After a while, she lifted her head just enough for Motoki to track the moving outline of her lips. _I don't want to give that up._ Her chin rose a little more with the words and Motoki saw the fire in her eyes. Tiffany certainly didn't seem like someone who would back down from a fight. 

'But love isn't a battle,' he could imagine Minako explaining as he watched her put down her glass and reach out again for Tiffany's hand, this time meeting no resistance. In his mind, Motoki could hear the low lilt of Minako's voice, could see her hard, determined look, the one that had a hint of empathy as a chaser. Of all people, Minako knew that love didn't have winners or losers - just lovers. 

She finally shifted so Motoki could read her lips, catching Minako mid-speech. _It's a series of hello, goodbye, and hello again. And sometimes_ \- she paused for the briefest of moments and Tiffany's eyebrows sharply turned inward, as if fighting back the urge to close her eyes - _sometimes it comes to 'goodbye' and you can’t get past it - it just never changes back to 'hello.'_

Tiffany's face twisted into a sour look, lips pursed and jaw clenched as if biting down on something unsavory and trying not to let it show, trying hard to swallow it down whole. _But we've been together for so long,_ she said, still without looking at Minako. Her eyes were focused on her drink in a stare that rivaled her hand’s tight grip, fingers white against the dark, bitter, glass-encased alcohol. _I don't want to lose all of that._

Minako responded slowly, her face calm, shoulders relaxed, gaze patient. _But that's in the past._

Tiffany sat motionless for several minutes, just staring at her hand, at her drink. Then suddenly Tiffany's chest heaved with a shuddering breath and she looked up abruptly, blinking rapidly at tears Motoki only now noticed at the edges of her eyes. She refused to let them fall and instead tightened her grip on her glass, raising her chin even though it was quivering. _Isn't being in love enough?_ she asked, finally looking at Minako, a look of fierceness, of desperation, of vulnerability in her eyes. 

For a moment, Minako just watched Tiffany - her heavy, unsteady breaths, her rapidly blinking eyes, her pursed, trembling lips. Then there was the barest twitch of motion in Minako's face right before her mouth rounded open to form one word. But Motoki saw how Minako's jaw clenched after she spoke. It was a truth Minako didn't want to expose Tiffany to, even though she knew she had to. Because Minako was someone who didn't back down either, especially when it came to love. Especially when it came to telling a truth about love: 

That sometimes, love isn't enough.

Motoki watched as Tiffany turned away from Minako, the word registering in a physical struggle played out between the muscles of her face. On one side was smiling, the other crying. They waged their battles upon the hills, valleys and plains of Tiffany's face, attacking on all sides: the corners of her lips, the bottom of her chin, the edges of her nose, the space between her brow - they pulled and pushed and stretched and prodded until finally, Tiffany just closed her eyes and breathed. 

An eerie, blank calm took over, clearing the field and setting the canvas to white, with only Tiffany left standing and no one crowned winner. Because there were no winners and losers in love. Just lovers. 

And lovers without love.

* * *

It was a similar scene several nights later: a handful of customers, Haruka at the piano, Motoki at the bar, Minako arriving fashionably and late. Motoki dried his hands as he watched her slowly saunter in. It gave the others present a chance to take in the stunning mini-dress that hugged her curves as she made her way to her usual spot at the bar. Motoki guessed she'd been at a club prior to this, spotting the loose pieces of hair against her neck, the blush on her skin. As he took down a glass for her drink, he pulled out an envelope from under the bar. _To: Minako, From: Tiffany_ was written in round English lettering and Minako raised an eyebrow before using her nail to free the letter from inside.

Motoki had turned away to prep a drink for her - something bright and fruity - but when he was about to pour the finished mix into her glass, he stopped, catching her expression. She had folded down the top part of the letter and was looking past the bar, grimly, with a touch of reluctant, helpless finality. Her chest lifted and fell in a deep sigh and she wordlessly tucked the letter back into the envelope. 

Motoki poured her some whiskey instead, which she thanked him for with a slight upturn of her lips. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Motoki nodded towards the envelope. But she didn't answer immediately. She turned away to face Haruka and the piano, leaning against the bar and propping her elbow on top of it. Minako took sip of her drink then let the glass hang precariously from the edges of her fingers. She spoke suddenly, her voice low and rough from the evening, the whiskey, and the words.

They struck Motoki just as he was taking a breath, Minako’s low tone doing nothing to blunt their sharp honesty. He sharply sucked in a breath and looked up, but Minako's head was tilted to the side, eyes firmly closed. Motoki watched her for a long moment, wishing he had looked up in time to see how her lips had framed her words. All he had was the way that short, truncated melody had slipped into his ears - no visual cues, just words. 

The only movement Motoki saw on Minako's face was the minute stirrings underneath her closed eyelids. He drew in a breath and nodded, moving away from her and back to his spot at the middle of the bar, giving her space, letting her shut out the world for a while and listen to someone else's melody.

  


_Does it matter? It always ends the same way._  


* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at my livejournal (y-n-k.livejournal.com). Written mostly as a challenge to myself to not have any dialogue, but I ended up "bending" it through the lip reading and Minako and Motoki's English skills... (Why have Minako and Motoki (Andrew) from Sailormoon? Well, I've always wanted to write an SNSD/Sailormoon crossover and really, who better to talk about love but the Senshi of Love herself? xD)
> 
> Music was very important in the creation of this fic, namely "Dumbing Down of Love" by Frou Frou, "Slip Away" by Nell, and the end theme of the movie 5 Centimeters Per Second (which inspired the title of this fic - 12 muscles per smile - though I realize that number's not exactly scientifically proven).


End file.
